


Taste of Spice

by AuroraCloud



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, POV Ianto Jones, Season/Series 01, cakes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-03-10 16:03:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13504956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuroraCloud/pseuds/AuroraCloud
Summary: On a dark December evening, Ianto Jones isn't feeling exactly cheerful, and his relationship with Jack is just confusing. Still, there can be unexpected benefits to spicy cakes.





	Taste of Spice

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place in S1, some time after They Keep Killing Suzie but before Out of Time. Many thanks to [shopfront](http://archiveofourown.org/users/shopfront/pseuds/shopfront) for beta-reading this fic!
> 
> Have done my best to make Cardiff descriptions accurate, but I've been there only once for two days, and it was in spring rather than December, so I apologise for any flaws.
> 
> This fic was originally written for [Torchwood Fest](https://torchwood-fest.livejournal.com), December 2017 round, inspired by the Week 1 prompt "Holiday Treats".

Ianto stepped out of the Hub and into the chilly air of an early December evening. It felt good to have a sky above him for a change, he supposed. After walking a little towards the Roald Dahl Plass, he stopped for a moment to look at the view to the Bay. By the dark sea, faraway lights were scattered across the land like distant stars. He was determined not to feel lonely.

Any attempts at soulful gazing towards the sea were interrupted by the spicy scents drifting up from his coat pocket. Gwen, seeking to spread Christmas cheer among the team with her (or Rhys the Boyfriend’s) baking, had gifted all of them with homemade Welsh cakes.

Like pretty much anything at Torchwood, it hadn’t had quite the intended effect. 

Owen had scoffed and muttered a few chosen words about the meaninglessness of Christmas, earning a hurt look from Gwen. Jack had been amused, and had gobbled down three of the cakes in a minute flat while the rest of them were still dissecting a surprise dead alien. Ianto had, at least, thanked Gwen politely, and so had Tosh — before she had returned to her computer and forgotten the cakes in favour of some exciting bit of code, anyway.

Ianto appreciated the gesture, though. But the scent of spicy cakes felt as surreal as the festive lights of the city when you had spent your evening cleaning up alien slime. And when he had nibbled the cakes, they had brought back too many memories of old times that felt too far away. Especially considering he was only twenty-four.

He had lingered in the Hub for longer than anyone else, hoping Jack would show a sign of wanting his company for the night. He had shared Jack’s bed (or a convenient desk or even a wall) quite often lately, and felt rather a craving for more of the same tonight. He still had no idea what this thing of theirs was about, and Ianto didn’t like to fool himself. He was convenient to Jack. Perhaps even pleasant. But that was all. 

It was better that way, wasn’t it? He was hardly in a position to engage in a serious relationship. Jack was hardly a person to engage in a serious relationship with. Ianto knew that. Why did he feel sad, then, that Jack hadn’t given him any sign that he was wanted tonight?

He tried to tell himself this thing of theirs filled empty nights. It did make him feel wanted. Even needed.

But he was feeling none of that tonight, so he might as well walk home. The exercise would do his foolish head some good, hopefully.

As he crossed the Plass, he put a bit of a Welsh cake in his mouth. The spices warmed him up and made him try to think of the past again…. But it was useless. There was a wall of metal and blood and smoke between him and any past worth thinking of.

He was walking down Bute Street when he heard footsteps running up behind him. He tensed up, and had just enough time to stop and half turn.

To his surprise, it was Jack.

”Hullo, Ianto,” the Captain said, stopping and grinning. ”I was worried I wouldn’t catch you.”

”Something wrong, sir?” Jack didn’t look like there was an emergency, but Ianto couldn’t see why else he’d be running like this. 

”Oh, no. Only that I ate all my cakes already.” Jack came up to Ianto and swung an arm around his shoulders while plunging his other hand into Ianto’s pocket.

”So you’re going to steal mine?” Ianto attempted to remain steely against the arm around his shoulders and the hand rummaging in his pocket.

”Oh, don’t say steal,” Jack said and pulled out a piece of cake. ”It’s such an ugly word. It’s just-,” Jack stuffed the piece into his mouth before he continued, ”-borrowing.” Though with his mouth full, it sounded more like ’bowwowin.’

Ianto raised his eyebrows. ”With all due respect, sir, I don’t think I want it back when you’re done with it.”

Jack made a face. It looked particularly silly when he had his cheeks stuffed full like an irate, oversized hamster.

”Well, aren’t you in a cheerful mood,” Jack said when he had managed to swallow. His hand immediately went into Ianto’s pocket to search for more. The little grope Jack managed may or may not have been intentional, Ianto still felt a flicker of heat inside.

”Someone has to stay sombre and predictable,” Ianto said, not adding with your mood shooting all over the place like you’re on a bloody rollercoaster, sir. 

”Come on, Ianto. For Christmas?”

”I didn’t know you’re particularly interested in Christmas, sir,” Ianto said narrowly avoiding adding that this was to be his first Christmas after Lisa. After Canary Wharf. He’d be damned if he was going to feel happy about it.

”Can’t say that I am,” Jack said nonchalantly, ”but you’re always welcome to make me interested.”

I’m more into making you interested in spreading your legs under me, Ianto thought but didn’t say. ”I don’t see what the point is if neither of us really cares for it.”

”Could try, though.

”What for?”

”Dunno.” Jack sounded puzzled at himself. They stopped to wait for a traffic light, and Jack unexpectedly leaned his head against Ianto’s. ”Sometimes I just wonder. Maybe I’d understand this place better if I understood things like Christmas. Come on, Ianto. Just a little detour to see the lights in the city?”

Ianto lifted his eyebrows. ”Are we going like this?” 

”What do you mean?” Jack asked innocently.

Ianto gestured to Jack’s arm around his shoulders. ”Like… this.”

Jack grinned and tightened his hold. ”You got a problem?”

Yes, I do, Ianto thought. It’s one thing to have wonderful sex behind closed doors, but I could be seen walking like this with my boss who sort of is my lover except I don’t know what the hell he thinks of me and what he wants me for and why this, tonight of all nights…. But he found he rather enjoyed Jack pressing against his side, tender and relaxed for once, and he didn’t want to ruin it.

”Just don’t eat all the cakes,” Ianto said instead

”I can feed you some.”

”I’m perfectly capable of feeding myself, thanks.” To prove his point, Ianto fished a piece of cake out of his pocket and began to eat it. But with the spices came another wall of sense memory. The taste of the spices in his mouth, the softness of the tea-soaked sultanas and currants assaulted him with a waves of sense-memory, of times separated from his current self by an iron wall of experiences that would never fade. He stiffened, trying to defend himself against feelings he didn’t want.

”Ianto?” Maybe he imagined, but there seemed to be a note of real concern in Jack’s voice. 

He didn’t say anything. There was no way to explain — even if Ianto had been the type to explain his vague feelings of hurt and loss to people, he and Jack didn’t have that kind of intimacy. 

No, their intimacy was of a wholly different kind.

But when he felt Jack’s arm tighten around his shoulders, he instinctively leaned in and he felt a little comforted. It was the touching that got him, every time. Maybe that was why he had ended up in an affair with Jack. The man could communicate by touch, while Ianto felt stunted in every other medium of expressing anything. At least other than with sarcasm.

But he wanted to avoid getting sentimental. ”Did you come for any other purpose than to steal my cakes?”

Jack shrugged without removing his arm from around Ianto. ”Could stand some fresh air, I guess,” he said.

”I do wonder why you keep living in an underground bunker. Is that the reason you need to spend so much time standing on rooftops?”

He felt Jack tense, and the arm slip from his shoulders. ”What about rooftops?”

He had touched a nerve, and didn’t know why. Jack couldn’t very well go about standing soulfully on rooftops every other day and night if he expected nobody to notice. Ianto didn’t want to bother Jack, but he was curious. He stepped in front of Jack and looked at him. ”Why do you live at the Hub? I mean, really. I’m sure you could afford to rent a nice place.”

Jack shrugged. ”Maybe I got tired of nice places.”

Ianto sighed. ”Fine. What do you want to do now that you’re above ground and not on duty?”

Jack raked his eyes up and down Ianto, but the lewd comment didn’t appear. Instead, he strode onward. ”Let’s go look at the Christmas market,. It’s open for another half an hour, isn’t it?”

”What for?” Ianto asked. It seemed odd for Jack to know the opening hours of the Christmas market, and Ianto immediately caught himself suspecting aliens.

Jack only smiled. ”It’s pretty. Does there need to be a reason? C’mon, Ianto, you’re being too serious.”

Ianto didn’t reply, only cast a withering look-who’s-talking stare which was sadly lost on Jack as he walked on.

They eventually walked up the Hayes to arrive at the first crafters’ and merchants’ stalls, decoratively lit and smelling of fresh produce. The Cardiff Christmas market did impart a certain feeling of coziness and timeless comfort. It was quite beautiful, and not as tacky as it could have been. Ianto half waited for Jack to wrap his arm around his shoulders again, but that didn’t happen. He thought about scooting closer to Jack.

He felt Jack lean closer to him, and shuddered pleasantly when the other man’s breath brushed his cheek. ”Look closely at the lady at the mulled wine stand.”

Ianto did, and noticed the slightly bluish tint of the skin, and what appeared to be make-up carefully covering the third and fourth eyes. ”Wait, is that a…”

”Came through the Rift twelve years ago. Remarkably well settled in. Even speaks English with a Welsh accent now! Back on their home planet they communicate in song so she made a marvellous addition to the church choir. Or so I’ve heard, and her mulled wine is certainly the best.”

”Any special alien ingredients?”

”She didn’t exactly come through the Rift with her own orchard in tow. No, she’s just really good at blending tastes. Want me to get you some?” Jack didn’t stop and wait to hear his reply and Ianto was grateful for the warm mug Jack thrust in his hands a minute later.

The wine was hot, spicy, and intoxicating. Rather like Jack. 

Jack watched him, seeming to wait for a reaction. ”It’s good,” Ianto said.

”Told you,” Jack said as he beamed. Ianto noticed that Jack was watching his lips, which were now moistened with wine. ”You’re looking really kissable.”

Ianto felt his face flush hot. ”Not here!” he hissed.

Jack grinned. ”Where would you prefer, then?” He leaned in, and continued speaking with a low, enticing voice. ”Looks like you’ll have to invite me in, Mr. Jones.”

Ianto tried to glare at him, though the efficiency of the glare was probably diluted by the sudden wave of desire that flashed through him. He took another sip of the hot wine to mask his fluster, feeling the heat spread through him. 

Then he thought, what the hell? He had wanted Jack all evening. What was the point in playing games now that he could have him? 

Sure, his pride was a little hurt that Jack hadn’t showed his interest earlier, but the main thing was that he was getting what he wanted. 

He looked at Jack above the rim of his wine mug. Just one look, but it was enough to spread a filthy grin on Jack’s face and light up his eyes. Ianto felt his body responding already.

”I’ll have to think it over,” Ianto said, trying to sound cool. ”Must be sure you’ll make it worth my while.” He gave Jack a saucy glance, the kind that was normally reserved strictly for close quarters.

Jack crossed over to him and put his hands on Ianto’s hips. ”You’ve got doubts about that?” Jack purred. His right hand caressed Ianto’s hip bone, and Ianto had to suppress a shiver.

”I’ve had enough of an education to not make assumptions without sufficient evidence.” He managed to keep his voice steady. Just about. He was pretty damn sure they were being stared at, but somehow that mattered less now than the deliciously hungry look in Jack’s eyes.

”I’ll give you all the evidence you want.” His thumb moved on Ianto’s hip bone again, and the touch shot directly into his groin. Ianto swallowed and stepped back. 

He took another long sip of his wine just to cover his face. He could smell Jack and his damned pheromones, and he could read the need in Jack’s eyes and his touch. He wanted to respond to that need. But he had to keep some of his pride, it was the only thing one could do when bombarded by a Jack Harkness seduction. ”Very sure of yourself, as always,” he remarked.

Jack’s facade faltered a little, the corners of his mouth looking tense. ”Got something better to do?” Jack asked, more challenging than seductive now.

Ianto raised his eyebrows. ”I do have a perfectly delicious mug of mulled wine to finish.”

Jack smiled at that, but the tension did not abate. 

Ianto took pity on him and finished his wine in a couple of tasty gulps. ”Come on then,” he said to Jack. ”My place. Now.”

Jack grinned, tension melted away in an instant, and he hooked his arm through Ianto’s. Ianto accepted it without a word. It felt a little heady, dizzying, to be sure that Jack did want his company. 

Then Jack stopped while they were still on the street filled with market stalls, and stood in front of him. Ianto could tell what Jack was going to do when he started to lean across. He thought he probably should have dodged or pushed him aside, but instead he stood in his place as Jack kissed him full on the lips. 

Ianto let himself feel it all, the tenderness, a swipe of tongue, Jack’s hand in his hair and the other on his waist, the warmth of Jack against him, the wool of his coat against Ianto’s hand.

Jack smiled, almost maudlin, as he pulled back from the kiss. Then he grinned rakishly again. ”You’re right, it’s good wine.”

”You chose it,” Ianto said sombrely. He was an intensely private person, but right now he didn’t mind the whispers and the tuts from the people around them. Jack’s dazzling blue eyes watching him meant more. He should have been alarmed at that. But hadn’t he known it was happening all along, this falling? It was a frightening thought, and so he focused on the here and now, the here and now, the uncomplicated. He took Jack’s hand. 

”Come along.”

Maybe he imagined the light that shone in Jack’s eyes, the light that seemed to mean more than just lust.

*****

In Ianto’s flat, Jack still tasted of spice and warmth, and he clung tightly to Ianto as they traded long, deep kisses on his bed.

Ianto undressed him with care, revelling in him, and Jack seemed unusually tender and needy as Ianto kissed his skin and pushed him down on the bed. It was good to feel them wrapped together, and to lose himself between Jack’s thighs, into his heat and his intoxicating scent. It was good to feel Jack against him afterwards, his breathing deep, the hard planes of his muscles relaxed. 

Jack’s arms wound around Ianto, as though Jack couldn’t let him go. Ianto stroked his hair and kissed his brow, and Jack’s breathing quietened slowly as they lay together.

Ianto hoped he would stay, though he didn’t dare to say it. He just held Jack as Jack held him, and felt Jack’s breath against his neck. 

He had stayed with Jack in the Hub sometimes, but Jack had never yet stayed the night at his place. Jack seemed in no hurry now. He pressed occasional kisses on his skin, and made happy noises when Ianto caressed him, and for once Jack didn’t look like he was a million miles away. He seemed unusually content and comforted and Ianto wondered if it might be possible that Jack needed him.

They didn’t speak. 

But as night deepened and Ianto felt sleep carry him away, Jack was still there in his arms.


End file.
